


Second Chances

by TheMightyFlynn



Series: Family Matters [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 21:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13532571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: Realisations are made on both sides. It is time for a change.





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [theiceroyals](https://theiceroyals.dreamwidth.org) motnhly prompt: " _The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn’t keep visiting them..._ (HP1 p265)"

**September 1st, 1998, that afternoon.**

The tiny hairs on the back of Narcissa’s neck stood on end as she knelt to clip the head off a dead flower. A small smile tilted her lips as the sensation of being watched washed over her. This was not an unfamiliar sensation to her, especially since she had banished Lucius from their bedroom. She ignored it, however. Straightening, she swept her hand over the tops of the bushes before her as she moved along the pathway that led between the topiaries. Taking a deep breath, she allowed her hips to sway a little more as she moved, knowing it had to be Lucius watching her.

Dropping Draco off at Platform 9 ¾ that morning had gone a lot smoother than she had expected, meaning that she had arrived home just after lunch. Lucius had not waited for her, assuming that she would be out much longer than she had been. Disappointment had washed through her, but she figured that this was what she must expect when treating her husband the way she had been. She could not expect him to wait on her every beck and call when she had been giving him the cold shoulder for the past week. But then…

She sighed. Things between the two of them had been rocky since the end of the war. Pausing as she reached the gazebo at the end of the path she had been following, she knew she had to reconsider that statement. Things between them had been rocky for much longer than that. While she had never cared enough about The Dark Lord’s cause to allow herself to be Marked, she _had_ followed his beliefs rather strongly. If she had not, then she never would have allowed Lucius the freedom to drag their family into the war. It had been those beliefs that had first started the troubles between them.

The Dark Lord had always been a fearsome character, demanding respect and loyalty from all his followers. That respect and loyalty had continuously gone hand in hand with a large dose of fear, however. No matter what his followers had done – whether it was correct or not – that fear had run deeply through them all.

The mark of a good leader, she had always been told by her parents, was their ability to inspire not only the loyalty of their followers, but also their fear. It had taken her a long time to reverse those teachings in her mind, with the final nail in that particular coffin being The Dark Lord’s occupation of the Manor. Yes, he inspired fear in his followers, but none of the others had had to host him. In their _houses_. She had done her best to protect her husband and son during those dark times, but there were things even she could not control; things that still haunted her dreams…

_The sound and smell of burning flesh filled her senses. Swallowing down the nausea that rose in her throat, she bent her head, lowering her eyes as she stood before The Dark Lord. Narcissa Malfoy was no fool: she knew when to show deference to her superiors, even when she wished secretly to do the exact opposite._

_“My Lord,” she intoned, her eyes fixed firmly on her feet._

_“Narcissa,” The Dark Lord whispered, the word hissing around the room for a few seconds after he spoke it. “How good of you to join us.”_

_The sound of small titters from behind her told Narcissa they were not alone. Her neck muscles twitched, wanting to turn her head so she could see who was laughing at her, but she stayed still. There was no point in angering her Lord, not after Lucius and Draco’s failures._

_“I am, as always, your loyal servant, My Lord.”_

_“Indeed?”_

_There was an odd tone to The Dark Lord’s voice, one that caused Narcissa to automatically glance up to meet his eyes. It was then that she caught sight of the large blond man lying on the floor before the gilded chair The Dark Lord had claimed as his own. Standing over him with his wand hand raised, was Draco…_

“Cissa?”

Dragged back to reality by Lucius’ soft voice, Narcissa let out a strange sound. Her fingers ached from how hard she had been squeezing the secateurs, her eyes were tightly shut, and her entire body trembled as images from the war flashed before her mind’s eye.

“Lucius…”

“Shh, love. You are safe.”

Narcissa found herself wrapped in Lucius’ warm embrace in a matter of seconds. The secateurs fell from her numb fingers as she turned to bury her face into her husband’s shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other coming up so he could tangle his fingers into her hair.

“The war?” he mumbled into the top of her head, where he had his lips pressed softly.

Narcissa only nodded. It seemed to be all she was capable of at that point in time, with her body trembling and her heart racing as it was. Lucius understood, though, as she knew he would. Wrapping her tighter in his arms, he simply held her, waiting for her to be comfortable enough to speak again. Focussing on returning her breathing and heart rate to normal, Narcissa took deep, steady breaths. She managed to calm her heart, but she apparently had no chance of stopping the trembling. Raising her head, she offered Lucius a small smile.

“Rowle.”

Understanding crossed Lucius’ face immediately. After the war, they had both been haunted by nightmares of the memory of Draco being forced to torture Thorfinn Rowle. Lucius knew that he was the main cause of Draco being treated the way he had been by The Dark Lord. The guilt that came along with that knowledge had caused him all sorts of problems, ranging from nightmares, to sleeplessness, to panic attacks, and seemingly everything in between. There had been whole weeks where Narcissa would wake to him merely sitting up against the head of their bed, dark circles puffing his eyes. She had fared better, but not by much.

“Come, my dear.”

Narcissa was once again dragged out of her thoughts by Lucius’ voice. This time, however, he was stepping away from her, his hand outstretched. The loss of the heat of his body hit her like a blow, causing her to follow him almost on autopilot. Taking his offered hand, she allowed him to lead her into the gazebo.

Light and bright, the gazebo stood out in the Manor grounds like nothing else. Narcissa had had it constructed to her exacting standards. She had run through five different builders before she had finally settled on the one who would listen to her instructions and follow them to a tee. The result was absolutely perfect, with whitewashed wood, iron details, and a climbing rose that had grown up and over the roof in the years since the construction. Usually, it was a place that relaxed her. Not that day, however.

“Lucius…”

“Shh, love. Come, sit.”

Lucius led her over to one of the soft sets of cushions to the side of the gazebo – the one with the curtain of the climbing rose behind it – and patted the seat beside him. She had to give him credit for not reacting when she rolled her eyes and let out a small sigh. He did not speak again until she had seated herself next to him on the padded bench.

“I must apologise, Narcissa.”

It was more the formal tone to Lucius’ voice that shocked her into snapping her head around so she could look him in the eyes than the statement. Sitting beside her, his back ramrod straight, Lucius looked about as uncomfortable as she had ever seen him.

“Lucius–”

“Please, allow me to finish, Narcissa.” Holding up a hand, he offered a stiff smile. “This has been a long time coming. I know I should have apologised to you for my behaviour over the years long before now. I…”

He paused, his lips pressing together. A strange sensation rushed through Narcissa’s chest: part stress, part pride in what her husband was at least attempting to do. Taking a deep breath, Lucius continued.

“I know that everything that has gone wrong within this family has been at least partially my fault.” He let out an amused-sounding noise when she cocked an eyebrow at him. “Admittedly, I may have played a part in every part of what has gone wrong, but I cannot claim the fault for _every_ tiny little detail.” Clearing his throat, he assumed a serious mien again. “I am the reason you have these nightmares. My actions over the years have been the cause of our son being permanently disfigured and possibly outcast from society altogether. My insistence in following a man who clearly did not have the best intentions in relation to either you or Draco has nearly cost me everything I care about in the world. It may, in fact, have already lost me the love and respect of my only child.”

When he paused here, Narcissa reached out to grasp his hand. It was clenched in his lap, the fingers difficult to loosen. Tracing small patterns over his skin, she slowly drew each finger away from his palm, though, working her own between them.

“When I think of the damage I have caused to our family…” Lucius swallowed harshly and shook his head. “I am sorry, Narcissa, to have put you through all of this. It was through my fault that all of this happened; my folly. I… I am not expecting to be forgiven. Not as easily as this. Having spent these past few days apart from you has given me a perspective on my actions that I have never had before. I have spent time reflecting on them, as well as observing you and Draco and the way you interact with the world around you. All I can ask of you, Narcissa, is that you consider giving me a second chance. Allow me to prove to you that I am still the same man you married, rather than the crazed lunatic I must have appeared over the past few years.”

When he fell silent this time, Narcissa knew that he would not speak again until she had had her say. The hand she held in hers trembled a little as she shifted in her seat. How her peaceful afternoon had taken this particular turn, she had no idea. She found herself thankful that it had, however. Taking a few seconds to collect her thoughts, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I forgave you long ago, Lucius.”

Lucius’ head snapped up so quickly that Narcissa was hard-pressed to not laugh. His usually closed-off expression was completely open to her now, his grey eyes clear and readable. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

“This does not mean that I have forgotten all the hardships I have had to go through, you understand,” she continued. “I… There has been damage done to our relationship that will take some time to repair. I do know that this will involve hard work from the both of us, however. I do not expect you to do everything yourself, as a relationship needs to be worked on by both parties.” Meeting his eyes, Narcissa offered up a small smile. “I am also aware that I have not done my duty by you in several areas of our relationship over the years. I have mistrusted you, I have doubted you and your loyalty to Draco and I; there was even a point where I believed that you had simply married me for my ability to produce a pure-blood heir for you to mould into your own image.”

“I would _never_ …”

The insulted look that graced Lucius’ still-handsome face – despite his lack of sleep and the wear and tear the war had had on him – almost made her smile. His chest puffed out, his brows drew down, and he opened his mouth to continue, but she silenced him with a finger placed to his lips.

“I know, Lucius. And I apologise for ever having doubted you in any way.”

He was silent for another few minutes, merely watching her. The insulted expression slowly melted away, but it took time. Narcissa allowed him that time, knowing that she truly had insulted him by admitting to questioning his loyalty to her. The had she still held in her own tightened around her when he let out a steadying breath.

“Alright.”

She smiled. “‘Alright’?”

He nodded. “Alright. We have a lot to work on it seems, my dear.”

Leaning in automatically when his eyes dropped to her lips, Narcissa smiled again. The kiss they shared was soft and sweet; barely a touch of their lips. Yes, they had a lot to work on. It was going to be almost as though they were starting over again. Breathing deeply, she deepened the kiss, not wanting to have to face that reality just yet.


End file.
